


Colder Weather

by f_fandom



Series: Close Calls: Angst Ahead [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crash Landing, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings Realization, Finally!, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt James T. Kirk, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Injury, Insecure James T. Kirk, James T. Kirk Loves Spock, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious James T. Kirk, POV James T. Kirk, Possessive Spock (Star Trek), Protective Spock (Star Trek), Spock Loves James T. Kirk, T'hy'la Big Bang
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 19:35:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30094083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f_fandom/pseuds/f_fandom
Summary: Finally, Jim and Spock realize they're idiots in love! A shuttle crash and subsequent freezing temperature exposure forces Spock to treat a hurt Jim and then preserve body heat for survival. You can figure out where the rest leads...A sequel one-shot to "Inopportune Moment" and the foiled confession attempts.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Spock, James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: Close Calls: Angst Ahead [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2227416
Comments: 18
Kudos: 62





	Colder Weather

**Author's Note:**

> So this turned out to be where they finally confess their feelings, though I hadn't planned on it happening in this story when I started it. I just had to do the trope of them getting freezing and having to preserve body heat, which always leads to adorable awkwardness. And in this case, it turned out to be enough to send them over the edge. I still love playing with their idiocy and selfless angst in pre-relationship scenes. BUT I at least first wanted to give the story where they finally got it right. There will be explaining and exploring for them in either a subsequent chapter or another one-shot...
> 
> Also, this title came to me randomly as the Zac Brown Band song got stuck in my head and seemed to fit in more ways than one:
> 
> "Oh I wanna see you again  
> But I'm stuck in colder weather  
> Maybe tomorrow will be better  
> Can I call you then  
> Cause I'm a ramblin' man  
> I ain't ever gonna change  
> I gotta gypsy soul  
> And I was born for leavin'"

Just seconds ago, it had seemed, Jim and Spock's shuttle had crashed on the edge of a canyon on the planet’s surface. Jim had taken them down as easily as he could while sending the Enterprise their coordinates and as many distress codes as he could fire off. Spock checked three times to make sure he'd secured himself, nearly forgetting to secure his own safety belt in the process. They hadn’t even had time to catalogue any injuries when they landed—the shuttle craft skid on unsteady ground and would plummet off the cliff in minutes. They’d each grabbed an emergency bag and their communicators and phasers, ready to split. And then the shuttle slid on the shifting ground and Spock was losing his balance, falling out not onto the ground they were about to sprint across, but into the emptiness of the air over the gorge river.

Even as the shuttle craft shifted further, beginning its descent into the canyon as well, Jim gripped the open doorframe and stared below, Spock’s name still echoing from his shout. He saw Spock hit the water far below, but the river rapids were fierce, and Jim realized in cold horror that Spock couldn’t swim. Not in this. He secured the emergency pack around his shoulders—one of which had definitely dislocated in the crash—and dove just as the shuttle craft tumbled off the cliff with him. 

Jim spiraled in free fall for what felt like 30 seconds, but what was more like 10. He hit the water hard, his body slamming onto what felt like concrete. Pain erupted in his torso and he lost all sense of direction as the water swirled over his head and dragged him along the riverbed rocks. His entire body burned and stole his breath with the icy temperature. Through the mouthful of water he’d tried to avoid, Jim eventually found the surface and gasped and sputtered as the current carried him. He had to find Spock. He’d had a bit of a head start and Jim had no idea how far down river he could be by now. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened if Spock wasn’t able to keep his head above water and let the current carry him. He tried to swim along with the rapids, scanning the rocks and shore frantically. Water streamed over his head constantly, and he was sucked under a few times. Every breath stabbed his chest, whether from the icy cold or from cracked ribs from the fall, he wasn’t sure. And he really only had one good arm. His dislocated shoulder sent spikes up his neck and down his back with every jostle in the harsh waters.

“Spock!” he shouted over and over, knowing it was pointless over the roar of the water. But if anyone could hear, it would be Spock. The panic curled in his gut was growing stronger, and his fear and anger fought for dominance, when—there! Spock was clinging to a large boulder. His white face was shaking in pure terror. Jim didn’t think he’d ever seen Spock so scared. The Vulcan spotted the current carrying Jim to him, but didn’t dare move for fear of losing his grip. Jim kicked his legs as hard as he could, moving himself to the side of the river and—this was going to hurt—slammed into the boulder so he wouldn’t be carried past Spock. Spock was shivering so hard he looked like he was having a seizure. His hair was matted and swept in disarray, and he couldn’t even speak as Jim reached for him. As soon as he let go, the current would pull him away, and he was _not_ leaving without Spock.

“Grab hold of me!” he shouted. “Hang onto my back and keep your head above water! Ready?”

He didn’t know if Spock nodded or if he was still just trembling uncontrollably, but he let go of the boulder and reached for Spock with his good arm. He grabbed Spock’s wrist and held on as Spock was dragged into the water after him and quickly pulled himself to wrap his arms around Jim. Jim floundered for a good minute with Spock’s heavy weight, made worse with the water and his stiff limbs trying not to panic as he gripped onto Jim. His arms wrapped around Jim’s neck and he could feel Spock’s ice cold skin, his face stuck to the back of Jim’s neck where he was clinging for dear life. Jim’s head went under water a few times, and he coughed water from his lungs as he kicked his legs to stay afloat and just go along with the rapids now. Fighting the current would deplete any strength he had left and risk injury if he got his ankle stuck in any of the rocks at the bottom. 

Spock clung to his back and coughed, trying his best to help, but inevitably making things worse. Jim’s muscles cramped and burned and he just hoped he was right when he felt the rapids slowly lessening a bit. Spock raised a shaking hand and pointed far ahead to a giant log beside a wide shore bed with some open ground and trees. Jim grunted with effort to propel them away from the middle of the river and closer to the side. They approached it at an incredible speed still, and Jim held his breath, bracing himself. He reached out to grab hold of the log and slammed into it, his torso immediately bending and wrapping around the giant piece of wood. As before with the boulder, all air was pushed from his lungs and he couldn’t even scream—just grimace and shake. The current pushed his legs under the log and he couldn’t bring them under him to try and stand. Worse, he felt a worn branch stub of the log digging into his chest.

“Go!” Jim managed to shout. But Spock was already working his way sideways along the log, pulling himself until he reached the shore and was able to drag himself out of the water. Jim tried to follow, but he felt something tear in his chest and his face twisted in pain. He nearly lost his grip and was sucked under in the current. He couldn’t feel his dislocated shoulder anymore. He was numb everywhere, but he was only holding onto the log with his good arm and couldn’t let go to pull himself sideways onto shore the way Spock had. Spock was stretched over the log as far as he could, reaching for Jim. His eyes were wide and dark. And Jim knew what was going to happen even as prepared to reach for Spock's hand. 

He had to push himself back against the current a bit in order to get unstuck from the log where the branch was digging into his chest. He heard himself screaming, and as soon as he was free he snapped his arm to the side to reach for Spock. But he never even got close. He saw a split second of Spock’s horrified face, his mouth opening to shout his name. And then the water pulled him under. His face scraped the log and the blinding pain was immediately lost in the mouthful of freeing water as he once again tried to surface and ride the current. He managed to stay close to the riverbank and was carried downstream for maybe another minute or two before he was able to dig his hand in the gravel of the shore and drag himself to a stop. He couldn’t pull himself out. He couldn’t lift his head to see if Spock had been able to follow the shore, if he was coming, if he was okay or not. He was coughing and shaking and bleeding, and he managed one more heaving pull as he dragged himself a little farther out of the water. Then he collapsed, his face falling into the water. He turned his head to the side and got some air, but couldn’t get any farther. Then the current started pulling his legs away again, and he realized that going limp was leaving him at the mercy of the current. He clawed at the shore gravel even as he lost ground and felt his head slip under the water. Everything turned numb and he floated away under the water, sinking.

Then a freezing hand grasped his, and Spock grabbed his arm harder, hauling him out of the water. Spock was shouting his name, pulling him onto his back. Freezing fingers were on his face, his throat. Jim couldn't tell how many times Spock compressed his chest, already in agony, but then awareness reached him again and he was sputtering and gasping, spewing water from his mouth as he retched and cried out in pain. His eyes flew open, red and aching from the freezing water exposure and pressure. Spock grabbed his shoulders and Jim screamed as he was hauled upright. Everything hurt _so_ bad, and he couldn't feel anything else beyond the stabbing, freezing waves of pain. Spock had one hand on his back and one on his shuddering chest. “Breathe, Captain! Jim, you must breathe!”

‘Fucking hell, Spock,” he rasped. His throat and lungs were scraped raw from the icy water, and as he coughed more and more of it up, he saw it was tinged red. 

“Can you stand?” Spock asked. “We must find shelter before the light fades.”

Jim groaned and leaned against Spock's chest. A shaking hand cupped the back of his head and then left almost immediately. 

"Captain, we cannot remain here. We are in danger of entering hypothermic shock within 16.7 minutes as it is. Please. You must stand."

Jim nodded miserably, pushing himself up and falling as Spock hauled him to his feet. He continued coughing water as he surveyed the shoreline. The walls of the gorge stretched straight up for thousands of feet. Trees were small and sparse, more like bushes in the rocks. He and Spock stumbled along as they followed down the shore, looking for an opening or small cave. Spock let out a noise of disbelief when he pointed far ahead again. Jim squinted through the water in his eyes and saw the dark shadow of a cavern mouth. He began grasping at the tree branches that they passed now, scraping his fingers in cuts as he gathered sticks. Spock copied him and uprooted an entire small tree, dragging it.

When they reached the cavern, they stumbled into it and wrenched the emergency kits off their backs. Spock dug for a light and forced himself to his feet to inspect farther inside the space. Jim couldn’t get his fingers to work, but managed to use his one arm to get himself free of the straps. Everything hurt and he was shaking, his chattering teeth making his groans sound like he was sobbing. His entire body wracked in painful tremors, the cold holding him captive. He crouched there on the rock floor, the sound of the river behind him still echoing in his splitting head. He didn’t hear Spock return until he knelt in front of him and made eye contact. His mouth was moving, so Jim blinked and tried again to listen.

“—clear and uninhabited. You are injured, Captain. We must start a fire and remove our clothes immediately.”

Despite his shivering, Jim cracked a grin and let Spock drag him further inside the cavern. He set Jim down and began breaking the branches into large pieces around a decent sized rock. The light from outside illuminated the space they occupied inside the cavern, but Jim saw deep shadows further back where there was only darkness. He watched, dazed and exhausted, as Spock fixed a setting on his phaser and fired at the rock and branches. Slowly, they began to heat, and the branches caught fire. The rock glowed and exuded continual heat. Thank god for waterproof equipment. Jim groaned in pain as the heat reached him and his freezing numb extremities began trying to circulate blood once more. Spock was opening the emergency kits, arranging medical hypos and rolls of bandages alongside food ration packs and a giant unrolled insulation tarp. Then he was crouching in front of Jim again. Oh right. He was talking again. Why couldn’t Jim hear him? He smacked his waterlogged ears and Spock grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

Spock’s hands still shook, and Jim could see the chattering teeth behind that clamped jaw as he worked at Jim’s clothing. When he maneuvered Jim’s arms to get them out of the sleeves, Jim shouted in pain and pulled his damaged arm toward his body, trying to cradle it still. Spock’s face hardened and he hesitated. “Just fix it,” Jim was gasping, and then Spock took Jim’s injured arm, held him still and told him to hold his breath, and before Jim could even respond that he couldn't breathe, Spock twisted his shoulder back into place. Pain exploded down his arm, and Jim let out a hoarse scream and grit his teeth, falling forward with his head against Spock’s chest. Spock held him for a moment and rubbed his back, murmuring what Jim thought sounded like “I am sorry,” before trying to get his uniform off of him once again. But Jim put a hand on his chest.

“Are...are you hurt?” he rasped. “Spock, you can’t stand the cold. Get out of your uniform first and then you can help me.”

“Captain, you are more seriously injured—”

“Spock! If you slip into hypothermic shock and go into a healing trance, what good will you be to me then? The tips of your ears are fucking translucent. Now strip, Commander. That’s an order.”

Jim gripped his head as he finished and groaned against the disorientation. His entire brain felt frozen in his head, and the crackling sounds and shadows of the fire seemed like something out of a dream. He was dimly aware of Spock pulling his freezing, soaked clothes off until he was in only his underwear. Jim didn’t have the concentration to admire the beauty of Spock’s body, even pale white and shaking. Long, cold fingers touched his face, and he blinked again. His arms were gently bent and his uniform shirts pulled over his head. He shivered and tried to focus on breathing. It still hurt so bad he hardly noticed it anymore. Spock’s ragged gasp drew him back to the present. He cried out and jolted as Spock inspected him. And then he looked down at himself. Oh.

His entire torso was a map of blue, purple, and green bruises. Scrapes dripped blood, and sections of the bruises gathered deeply with spots and marks swirling in the colors. His back felt raw, so he knew it probably wasn’t any better there. Or maybe it was. The front of him was what had slammed against so many boulders and logs. His stomach ached like he’d been slugged a few times with a 2x4 made of titanium. Among the mass of bruises on his right ribcage, an open wound bled sluggishly. Jim had the suspicion that if his body hadn’t just gone through a round with freezing water temperatures, he would be bleeding a lot more than he was. He put two and two together and realized it was where he’d slammed into the log and gotten himself stuck on a jutting section of wood. Spock’s hands were hovering everywhere over his freezing skin, unsure where to touch. As nervous and scared as he seemed, he also looked uncomfortable for a different reason, and when he inspected a swarm of purple bruises on Jim’s chest and brushed his nipple, rock hard from the cold, he blushed. Jim yelped at the pain of just Spock touching, and it made him blush even harder, gritting his jaw. Against his face being so pale, the green blush changed the entire color of his skin, and then Jim understood. But Spock had seen him without his shirt before, right? Many times. But he didn’t have the energy to think about it.

Jim raised a shaking hand to his ribcage, wiping away blood so he could try and see the damage better. Spock held a tricorder up to his torso and gathered the readings. Jim breathed carefully against the pain and wondered how many ribs he’d busted this time. Somehow, the bruises felt _much_ worse--the damage at his stomach pressed deep inside him. Probably busted his spleen or something. Spock’s hands, still shaking from the temperature, shook harder as he scanned Jim. He tried to speak and made a noise of choked frustration and anger. Then he tried again.

“Four broken ribs. Three fractured. Extensive contusions of high severity, accompanied by several superficial lacerations, and a near pulmonary puncture. If the injury had wounded you a centimeter further, it would have punctured your lung.”

“So, basically, no worse than normal,” Jim said. He reached for the tricorder, but Spock jerked it out of reach and glared at him.

“I do not appreciate the triviality with which you face your own bodily harm,” he snapped. 

“Well maybe I’m just grateful it isn't as bad as last time. Remember that? Now gimme that damn thing. It’s your turn.”

Jim’s teeth chattered as he spoke, making him sound very un-Captain like.

“It is not,” Spock said. "And I will again remind you that I find it deplorable that you think comparing injuries applies any level of acceptability to your current condition. Any harm against your person is unacceptable to me." He set the tricorder aside, out of range from Jim, and gathered a hypospray, a jar of ointment, and a bandage wrap. 

“C’mon, don’t you dare hypo me.”

But Spock was already adjusting the morphine level on the dispenser Bones had labeled _CAPTAIN IDIOT_. And Jim was freezing too much to move away in time when Spock took hold of his jaw with surprising gentleness and turned his head. Jim hardly felt the needle in his neck, and hardly had time to think about the touch before Spock was rubbing emergency triage ointment on his chest to stop the bleeding. He jumped at the cold sensation against his already freezing skin. Spock was blushing again as he evenly and very carefully administered the product to the worst of Jim’s injuries, avoiding Jim's gaze. Jim groaned and bit back a shout as Spock prodded his ribs and applied generous amounts to the paintings of bruising on his stomach, but he felt the numbing effect of the ointment already and still had his eyes clenched shut when Spock removed his hand. Then he was pressing the end of the bandage roll to the side of Jim’s chest. He held it there with one hand and instructed Jim to keep it in place. Jim’s fingers touched Spock’s on his chest, and he watched Spock try to maintain emotional control, but then he was grimacing and groaning as Spock wrapped his chest and ribs tightly, sealing in the ointment and preventing his ribs from unnecessary movement. He moaned loudly as Spock secured it tight, and he whimpered and gasped, trying to stay conscious. He was still breathing shallowly and pressing his hand to his ribs when Spock took another roll of material and tied a sling around Jim’s neck to hold the arm of his dislocated shoulder. Jim had so many jokes he wanted to be making about Spock tending to him, but he was too tired and too fucking cold. And he sensed he shouldn’t joke anyway.

Then Spock's hand examined his face, the bruising and gashes around his brow he had been too cold to notice. But now he felt the warm sensation of blood trickling down his hairline. And it explained why his left eye was having difficulty seeing. Jim grimaced and pulled away when Spock inspected the damage. Spock's other hand held the right side of his face, keeping him still. He was so close, and Jim stared at his eyes, so near to his own and yet not looking him in the eye as he applied soothing ointment to his battered skin. Jim's breathing hitched in his throat from nervousness and desire as much as from pain. Spock grimaced himself, blinking his eyes closed for a moment, and Jim panicked, wondering if Spock was picking up his emotions from touching him. Of course he would grimace in disgust and impatience if he suspected Jim wanted him.

He escaped into his mind in humiliation and stayed quiet as Spock, still without looking Jim in the eye, unfastened his pants and instructed Jim to lean back and lift his hips a bit so he could pull to soaking wet material down his legs. He removed Jim’s boots and socks and tugged the pants the rest of the way off. Jim sat there, shivering, and marveled at what it had taken to get practically naked with his First Officer. This wouldn’t have been his first choice of situations, and he felt terrible at the discomfort he knew Spock must be feeling. Jim was fine with his body, and he felt guilty at his own disoriented excitement at having to now share body heat with Spock. But he knew Spock did not see him that way and that this was a highly uncomfortable situation for him. Especially if he'd picked up on any of Jim's feelings. Jim hoped he would chalk it up to hypothermic delusions from the ever illogical and disappointing human Captain.

While he’d been daydreaming and self-sabotaging, Spock had bandaged a small wound on his own arm. Jim took up the abandoned tricorder while he had the chance and scanned Spock for further injuries. Spock raised an eyebrow at him until Jim sheepishly laid the instrument back down.

“You’re good,” he said.

‘A fact of which I was already aware, Captain. As usual, you are the only one severely injured. And I...apologize for the need to share body heat, but we must raise our core temperatures to avoid hypothermia.”

“ _You’re_ sorry?” Jim asked as he shuffled closer to the heating rock and fire. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I know this is pretty much way beyond awkward for you in terms of privacy. I know it would be easier if it was Uhura instead of me, even though you two broke up.”

“Captain, your speech is becoming erratic and nonsensical. Please lie down before you become ill.”

“I’m not ill and I’m not erratic. Or nonsensical. Wait...do you wanna be the big spoon or the little spoon?”

Spock looked at Jim like he had two heads, but sighed and blushed again. “As I am taller, I will be the...'big spoon’ and you will lay closest to the fire.”

Jim nodded, too tired to argue, and tried to ease himself slowly onto his side. He groaned and hissed through clenched teeth. He was close enough to the glowing rock to feel it burning his face, but he was too cold to care. He curled up into a ball as far as his bandaged torso would let him, but Spock prevented him from compressing his ribcage further. Jim whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut, whispering "fuck" over and over. Spock laid down behind him, pulling the insulated tarp over their bodies. Jim was shaking, but partly because Spock’s hairy chest suddenly pressed against his back. He couldn’t feel all of it because of the damn bandages, but Spock’s tight nipples brushed his shoulder blades, and hot breath met the back of his neck. Spock was trying to keep their hips from touching flush together, but he pressed his thighs against the back of Jim’s and guided him to stretch his legs a little from their curled position so he could fit his knees behind Jim’s. Jim pressed his calves back against Spock’s shins, and he could even feel their feet touching, Spock’s feet tucked up underneath his. He felt so safe in that moment, so protected and warm, despite the fact he was still freezing and shivering. Spock’s arms were tucked up behind Jim’s back. Jim wanted him to snake his arm around him and pull him close, but he knew he wouldn’t because of his injured ribs and because that would be a far more clearly intimate gesture—one that survival did not necessitate. 

He felt so guilty for loving this, for trying to commit every sensation to memory. He would never have this again with Spock, and it was so perfect he felt his eyes watering. No. He was not going to cry just because he was getting to cuddle with his First Officer whom he was secretly in love with and who would never love him back. Spock had been with Uhura for well over a year, and he’d clearly stated in Sickbay that he had transferred his affections to someone new already. Jim’s heart ached at whomever this lucky scientist woman was. He racked his brain over the roster list of his crew, trying to narrow down who it could be. Who had won Spock’s heart? Who had done what Jim couldn’t—wouldn’t do? He’d once thought about trying to tell Spock how he felt. A number of times, actually, he’d come quite close. But he was so sure that Spock’s affections were not returned, and he was too terrified of losing the friendship he’d worked so hard to build with Spock. If he offended him by revealing the depths of his feelings, things would never be the same, and he _needed_ to at least have Spock in his life somehow. If it was only ever in friendship, then he would accept that and treasure it. Behind him, Spock drifted to sleep, exhausted from holding back his pain and fatigue to tend to Jim. As usual. Because he was a fuck up and always ended up making Spock be all selfless and stubborn in order to focus on his Captain before himself.

As exhausted as he was, he couldn’t fall asleep. He was afraid of missing the sensation of slowly growing warmer and cozier—well, as cozy as one could be on a rock floor. He kept his eyes open at half-mast and watched the glowing fire, the shimmering orange heat waves on the rock. He cried silently, and his tears gathered in the corner of his eye before they could run over the bridge of his nose and down the side of his face. He hoped Spock couldn’t pick up his emotions from their skin-to-skin contact while he was asleep. When Jim was finally able to close his eyes, it was to drift off while thinking about what it would be like for Spock’s arm to snake over his waist and curl around him. To feel secure in that strong hold with Spock’s hand against his stomach, wrapping him in an embrace. He imagined it so hard, he even thought he felt it right before he finally lost consciousness. But then again, he was used to dreaming about Spock’s affections. 

___________________________________

Which is why the next morning, when he awoke, he stayed still and didn’t breathe for a few seconds as he realized Spock’s arm _was_ draped over him. How long had they been asleep? Were they still asleep? The weight hurt his ribs and bruised stomach, but he welcomed it. Spock was still asleep. Jim hated himself, but realized he should try to move Spock’s arm off of him so that he didn’t wake up and get embarrassed at their position. Because he also felt the very unmistakable sign of Spock’s half erection against his ass. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to breathe normally, willing his own erection down. Spock at least couldn’t see his. It was all just a dream. And he knew he shouldn’t, he _knew_ he shouldn’t, but he focused on the sensation of Spock's hardness pressed against him. He imagined what it would be like inside him instead of just against him. He gasped a little as the fantasy progressed to where Spock pulled him tighter against his chest to keep him from leaving. His hips pressed closer against Jim’s backside, and Jim gasped at the size of Spock’s length nudging him. It felt so _right._ And then he realized it was actually happening. Had been happening. 

Jim shot upright and flung himself out from under the insulation cover and away from Spock’s body. He cried out at the pain in his chest from the sudden movement and leaned forward, groaning, as he wrapped his good arm around himself. His abdominal muscles cramped and shook under the deep bruises, and he tried desperately to relax his core. Spock had immediately awoken and sat up himself, taking in the situation and losing all color in his face so that he looked as white as he had in the freezing river. 

“Jim, I—Captain, please. I apologize—I was not intending to—I— _please_ forgive me.” He stuttered and panicked and his messy hair fell in even further disarray and he looked so adorable that Jim wanted to kiss him. But oh, god, the humiliation.

“Fuck,” he hissed. His ribs stabbed at his lungs as he tried to breathe. The cluster of black bruises in the middle of his torso felt like it went through all the way to his back. Spock reached out to him, but then pulled back, obviously not trusting himself with any further direct contact. Oh fuck, what had he done, Jim thought. Stupid idiot.

“Spock, I’m so sorry. It’s not your fault. You were reading it from me. Fuck, fuck, fuck, godfuckingdamn it, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Please just...ah fuck.” Jim buried his face in his knees tucked up against him. He’d officially ruined it. God, what a pervert Spock must think he was. He couldn’t look at him, couldn’t see that accusation and insult in his eyes.

“Jim...” Spock’s voice was pleading and Jim groaned, hating himself. “Jim, please...it is not your fault. It is a natural physical reaction.. You could not control it. It does not...I do not read into it any further than that. Do not be afraid that I would think you meant anything by it. Do not feel ashamed. There is no guilt. I lapsed in my control, and I maintain that the fault is mine and mine alone. I should have been guarding my mind more heavily, knowing your vulnerable condition.”

He rambled on and on and Jim couldn’t listen, couldn’t think about what he was hearing. Until he slowly opened his eyes and stared at the ground. His breath hitched in his chest, but not just from pain. He blinked and finally risked a glance at Spock. And oh, he was so beautiful in his distress, his face so distraught and full of pain. He looked terrified. He was begging. Why was he begging?

“Spock...”

“No, Jim, please. It is my fault, and I accept full—”

“Did you say I didn’t have to be afraid that you would think anything more by it?”

Spock paused, his adorable look of confusion settling in over his panic, rerouting. “Of course, Captain. It would be humiliating for you if I mistook—”

“Why?” Jim whispered. “Why do you think I would be humiliated for _me_?”

And now the full “does not compute” look was in Spock’s eyes. His mouth opened and closed. “You...you do not have those feelings,” he admitted, sounding as if each word tortured him to say out loud. “You are a heterosexual man, with intentions toward Commander Marcus, even though she is attempting to gain the affections of Commander Scott—”

“Spock,” Jim said. He shook his head slowly, not imagining what he was hearing, but worried he might be all the same. He leaned forward from his place against the wall, his legs falling open in his lap. Spock’s eyes darted to them and back up. Blushing. It was not absent on Jim that they were both practically still naked while they were having this conversation.

“Spock,” he said slowly. “Do _you_...do you _want_ what just happened to be a mistake?”

And the blush was so immediate and so severe, and Spock was looking away, breathing heavier. His hands clenched against his thighs where he sat kneeling. His entire body tensed, and Jim allowed himself a quick, lustful glance at Spock’s hard muscles. He wanted so badly to touch them. Spock’s eyes suddenly snapped open and he just stared at the floor.

“Spock?”

Spock shook his head, still staring at the floor. “You are a heterosexual man,” he said again. “You do not have those feelings, and to embarrass you by even suggesting—”

“Spock,” Jim whispered. “Shut the _fuck_ up. Now.”

Spock bit his lip and clenched his jaw so hard it looked like his face was carved in stone. He breathed heavily through his nose, his entire body still flushed jade.

“Spock. You said you ended your relationship with Uhura because you were no longer in love with her, and because you realized you were in love with someone else. Who is it? I’ve been trying to think of every crew member on the ship to figure it out, but I can’t.”

When Spock finally looked up at him, it was with a look of such vulnerability and pain that his wide eyes were watering. He sat there, his frame hunched and wilted, staring at Jim like he was expecting a physical blow, and yet would not turn away. His breath was slow and deliberate, but it shook in his throat. His jaw trembled. Jim didn’t know what kind of stupefied, awed, nonsensical face he must be making himself. His eyebrows furrowed together and his eyes watered and he just stared at his beautiful Vulcan so exposed and afraid. Of him. Of rejection. Because it was so clear now. Hidden no longer.

“Bones was right,” he breathed. “I am an absolute idiot. An absolute _fucking_ idiot.”

Spock couldn’t even register his confusion. He stayed like he was. But then he slowly registered that Jim’s own face was soft and broken, and that he wasn’t saying the words he’d been fearing. He wasn’t telling Spock ‘no.’ Jim quickly racked his brain for all the memories he’d hidden away of mental contact with Spock. The times he’d felt him in his mind, holding him safe, literally keeping him from dying. He’d always sensed something was there, but he never knew what it was. He just secretly wished he could feel it more, because he must have been imagining the emotions he felt from Spock surrounding it. And the emotions were so _deep_ and... _treasured_.

“Why won't you say my name, Spock?” He’d barely spoken it aloud, but he knew Spock heard. He knew he was openly crying now, his tears blurring his vision. This time he was going to make Spock answer him. He wouldn't give him an out.

Spock was shaking. “Because your name is everything. It means everything, and to say it out loud invokes feelings of...I feel desires which I know are not returned. It pains me..."

Jim threw himself across the space separating them and slammed his body against Spock’s. Pain flared through his chest and ribs as he knocked Spock onto his back and landed on him. He grimaced and cried out, but he managed to find Spock’s mouth and moan into it instead. Spock was so startled, trying to carefully aid Jim in his obvious pain, but also grabbing him to keep him close. He felt the stabbing in his ribs as he crouched over Spock, and the bruising deep inside as he pressed himself flat against him. Jim squeezed the pain back behind his mind where it belonged and deepened his kiss. Spock’s mouth opened and Jim shoved his tongue in, kissing him and sucking desperately for contact. He tasted so perfect and different from kissing a woman. And yet exactly the same. But he was...equaled and dominated. He felt his erection rising hard against Spock's thigh. His good arm grasped the side of Spock’s face and threaded fingers through that silky black hair, needing more. Spock was kissing him back, moaning brokenly. And Jim was moaning, both of them sounding like horny teenagers, Jim thought, and he was pressing his body hard into Spock’s. It was not lost on him that their bare legs were intertwining, their flesh hot and tingling. And then Spock’s hand was on his waist, the other on his face, and Jim lost track of time before the kiss broke off and they both came up for air.

Spock’s eyes were black coals staring into Jim’s face, the flushed skin and kiss-swollen lips, wet and waiting for more. Their chests heaved together as they tried to take in what had just happened. Jim remained sprawled on top of Spock, unable and unwilling to move. His mind was near blanking out from the rush of emotions and the agony in his torso fighting for dominance. Spock was shaking his head slowly.

“How long have you—?”

“Ever since you fucked me over at the Academy. Not literally, unfortunately, but ever since that very first time I saw you.” 

Spock’s eyebrows disappeared into his bangs and his mouth opened in one of the greatest “does not compute” expressions Jim had ever seen.

“All this time? But...I believed you to have affections for—”

“And I thought you were with Uhura all these years. So, yeah. I’ve been waiting a long ass time, you bastard.”

Spock shook his head, sorrow and hurt pouring from his gaze. He took Jim’s face in his hands, gentle around the deep bruising at his brow, and pulled him into another deep kiss. He took and took, and Jim felt comfort replacing his sadness and the confusion and worry that lingered. Jim reached for more and abandoned control, knowing he wouldn’t need it. Not for this. Not for the first time in his life. Spock bit his bottom lip, and Jim realized he’d felt those thoughts from him. And suddenly he was flipped, caught gently before he landed on the floor, but situated on his back nonetheless, and Spock was framing his body on all fours, crouched over him, close, but not pressing for hurt of his ribs. The worst of the pain seeped out of Jim's body as Spock touched him everywhere, pulling it from him. Spock framed Jim’s face with his elbows, knees straddling Jim’s hips, and he lowered himself, rocking and rutting against Jim. Jim gasped and arched up at Spock’s penis rubbing against his, only the thin material of their underwear separating their skin. He also groaned as the sudden movement brought stabs of pain that Spock could not eliminate entirely, but that he chased and pushed aside. Still, Spock knew and would not press into him further than that. He kept Jim pinned instead, so that he could not move and hurt himself. He could only lie there as Spock began assaulting his neck, throat, and shoulders with his mouth. 

"Say my name now," Jim gasped. "Say it like you mean it."

" _Jim_ , my Jim," Spock whimpered reverently, as if he couldn't believe he was saying it but yet had waited so long and could wait no longer. He repeated Jim's name over and over between each kiss on Jim's mouth, his jaw, his neck, his nose. He pressed the name into Jim's skin with clear dominance and protection. Possession.

Jim threw his head back and moaned, his skin tingling with finally feeling Spock everywhere. He regretted the bandages encasing his torso that prevented them from fully touching. He wanted to feel Spock’s body against his, reaching, taking. Spock’s hands protected his chest, holding him by his ribs as if he were the most fragile, precious thing. The bandages wrapped from around his chest, over his shoulders, and down to his waist, making him feel like a fucking mummy. His damaged arm was safely stationary in its sling against his side. Spock maneuvered and held him without pressing any of his injuries, as if he knew just where to touch. Jim felt the pain ebbing away again, but he pressured Spock not to take it all on himself. And there was little else he could think about with Spock’s tongue swiping long licks up his neck and behind his ear. Spock was moaning gently in his throat, almost purring as he explored and treasured Jim’s body. Jim wanted to keep his eyes open, to watch, but the light in the cavern was dim and he could only register the dark, smooth muscles of Spock’s frame covering his. The sounds of their moaning and gentle touching filled the space, and the heating rock glimmered in a gentle glow. Jim couldn’t stop to think about how quickly and easily his bare thighs had fallen open, or how little he cared. How right it felt for Spock to be above him between his legs. How natural it felt to let Spock take control and work these responses from him he’d never experienced before. He wrapped his calves behind Spock’s knees, trying to pull him down closer, but Spock held his weight steady just above Jim’s heaving torso. All it took was Spock reaching tenderly between them, grasping their erections together, and Jim bucked his hips, arching into Spock’s hand with a cry, and they both came in a bright haze. Jim trembled and clutched at Spock as he rode out the shocks of his orgasm. He blinked hazily against the sweat dripping down his face. It stung as it coated his bruises and the gash that was trying to scab over. Spock’s eyes were wide and coal black, devouring Jim’s every facial expression and caressing his cheek as Jim heaved in air. He was shaking from the stabbing in his ribs, but busted ribs and bruises were nothing new. He ignored it.

“That,” Jim gasped. “That was amazing. Spock, I...do it again. I want more.”

“As do I,” Spock murmured. He nuzzled the side of Jim’s neck and...sniffed him? Spock was smelling him? More importantly, why was that so hot? Spock smiled against Jim’s pulse.

“I will not, however,” he said slowly, “rush this. I have thought of this for too long. I intend to take my time with you, James. Enjoy you, learn the ways to pleasure you.”

Jim went limp with a mumbled _"fuck"_ , his eyes rolling in his head at the use of his given name rolling out of the depths of Spock’s throat, along with words like “pleasure.” He felt Spock rising away from him, sitting back on his heels. Jim kept his hand stretched out, touching, and then it fell against Spock’s thigh, tracing circles. Spock carefully removed his underwear, which was already sticky and uncomfortable, and Spock’s methodical movements told him that no, he wasn’t trying to rush things and see Jim fully naked—which Jim would have been fine with, hello—but he genuinely just wanted them both out of the uncomfortable clothing. But then Spock tensed suddenly and Jim worked his hazy eyes open. Spock sat above him, face stern with guilt and anger.

“Spock, what’s—”

“I should have restrained myself,” Spock snapped. Jim felt an anger in his mind that wasn’t his, and as he tried to sit up, he cried out at the sudden stabbing pain in his chest and stomach. He fell back to the ground, and Spock cradled the back of his head before it hit. He glanced down his body, at the many bandage wrappings, and saw the right side stained with blood. His puncture wound had reopened. And his broken ribs kept reminding him they were there beneath the layers of bruising as well.

“Stay.” Spock put a gentle hand on his chest. He returned within seconds with the emergency kit, and slowly helped Jim sit up. Jim bit back another cry, but Spock noticed it and his face fell further in guilt.

“Spock, it’s not your fault,” Jim tried to say. He spoke quietly, breathed carefully. He’d tried to ignore his injuries, but he really was hurting now. And his head was splitting open. Without Spock distracting him with touches, his body's attention was now fully on the agonizing sensations of his internal injuries. He was once again reminded of their situation and wondered when the Enterprise would reach them. If they’d received the transmitted coordinates at all.

Jim slouched slightly, hurting too much to keep his back straight, and he leaned his forehead into Spock’s shoulder as Spock gently unwrapped his torso. As the pressure pulled away, the lack of support was evident in the way his ribcage opened again, and the air in his lungs pushed at his broken ribs. His ribs and belly were nearly black with the bruising patterns, and when Spock touched, he felt them explode in pain deep inside his body. He tried to keep his breathing steady, but he felt the wound on his right side burning even harder now, and he wondered if it had ruptured further on accident. At least he wasn't coughing up blood, which was always a good sign. He leaned back very carefully to support his weight on his arm like Spock guided him to do, and so propped his torso at an angle for Spock to work. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he gasped, clenching his eyes shut so Spock couldn’t see the pain in his eyes. 

He didn’t want him to feel guilty. It wasn’t his fault. And Jim regretted absolutely nothing that had just happened. But his eyes flew open with a yelp when he felt Spock’s gentle fingers examining his chest wound. He glanced down his body and tried to tilt his head in a “it’s not that bad” manner. Spock's hand stilled on his belly and he glared at Jim, though the anger was surmounted by crushing guilt toward himself. Jim glanced down at his abdominal muscles that glistened with blood and ran down his ribs where, just underneath his right pectoral muscle, the puncture wound definitely looked worse. Infected, even. He could barely see any of his actual skin, for what wasn’t smeared with blood was mottled in some of the worst bruises he’d ever received. And he’d seen a lot on himself before. He also realized his head was killing him, and he wondered what the freezing water had done to shake him up. Spock was silent, jaw clenched in fury, as he re-cleaned the wound. Jim hissed and held his breath, and Spock’s frightened eyes shot up to his occasionally, ascertaining his pain. Jim tried to shake his head, that it wasn’t that bad. But he was feeling foggy too, and his brain felt exhausted in a way it hadn’t since the night before. 

Spock kissed his temple in an apology as he once again moved to the supplies. Jim blinked and suddenly lost all strength. He felt himself hit the floor, his arms sprawling as he fell back. Spock’s hand wasn’t there to catch his head this time, and the impact only added to his migraine. He heard himself shout and gasp at the pain that erupted deep inside his chest and abdomen. “Jim!” Spock cried, and then the hands returned in a rush, feeling his face, his forehead. He leaned into the touch, chasing the coolness of Spock’s skin. “Fuck,” he breathed over and over.

“I should have realized this,” Spock said. He sounded so distressed again, and Jim wanted to tell him to knock that shit off. It was an order. He was still in command, even if he couldn’t breathe or think. Or get fucked properly by his First Officer.

More ointment was applied to his slowly bleeding wound, and it stung more this time. Jim cried out and arched away from it, but Spock held him steady, rubbing his uninjured shoulder and whispering words Jim couldn’t hear fully. But it began numbing the wound again in a minute and he forgot it compared to the flinching he couldn’t stop as Spock’s fingers and the cold ointment gently touched the patterns of bruising. His muscles clenched, hurting even more, and he was groaning, gasping. He tried to focus on Spock’s hands, the fact that Spock was touching him so gently, caressing the skin on his chest, along his ribs, tracing his belly. He couldn’t really feel it though, cause Spock’s fingers were smeared in that damn numbing ointment, and his skin felt on fire anyway. Anything that touched him resonated deep inside with the severe bruising. He stared at the cavern ceiling that he couldn’t quite see and wondering how he’d gotten so weak so fast. 

“How long...till the Enterprise?” he rasped.

“Uncertain.” Spock’s voice was clipped. ‘We have food rations enough for another day or two, but I am more concerned about your injuries. And the fever that came over you sometime in the night, it seems.”

“Oh. Well...ughhh oh fuck that hurts! I...you eat the rations, Spock. I...I’ve gone without food for a long time...before. And I don’t think...I could keep anything down anyway. Kind of nauseous...so, and throwing up is the worst...such a waste...”

Jim didn’t hear anything from Spock for a long moment, and he tried to remember what he’d just said. It was hard though, when it took so much concentration to breathe shallow and easy. Each inhale and exhale grated his broken ribs and sent spikes through his body and to his head. He felt Spock’s fingers on his face, gently dabbing ointment to the swelling against his temple. Then his fingers pressed differently, and there was lifting relief. Marginal, blissful relief that let his face relax for a moment. A thumb caressed his cheekbone.

“I should have paid closer attention to your mind’s vulnerability. The bond seeks to establish itself, and you are already weakened. The amount of frigid water you took into your body yesterday was substantial. I will see to it that you do not move from this position until the Enterprise locates us.”

Jim cracked an eye open. Spock was leaning close, and though they were both still naked, Spock had covered him with the emergency blanket.

“S’not fair,” Jim mumbled. “M’not fragile.”

Spock stroked his forehead and smiled grimly. “You were already injured from the crash and yet you jumped off a cliff to save me. I witnessed the impacts your body took against the river. I owe you my life. And now I shall tend to you... _And_ feed you. I do not care to know why you have such experience lasting without food. But it will never occur while I am with you.”

Jim’s alarm flooded the back of his mind. Had he mentioned Tarsus? Or Kodos? Or was it just food...aw shit. Jim just kept his eyes closed and listened to Spock’s soothing voice washing over him. There was calm against his anxiety, and no small amount of guilt and regret from Spock about further stressing him. A deep sigh echoed in the cavern. Spock tilted his head up and helped him drink some water. The pain in his head was definitely fever-related. He recognized it and made himself swear that he wouldn’t go blabbing his mouth anymore. Fevers made him say things he didn’t want to. He hated how foggy his mind got, and yet how clearly he could still feel every stabbing ache in his body. 

“And here I thought...we were gonna spend...the rest of the day fucking.”

Jim pouted, his eyes still closed. Spock huffed in amusement above him, despite himself, and then lips were on his, kissing him gently. The hand returned to his forehead, stroking soothingly. Spock was kissing his forehead, his cheeks, his closed eyes, the corners of his mouth. Then his lips again. Caring, vigilant. Safe. Jim let himself slip down gently into sleep. He heard, but hardly noticed the hiss of a hypospray in his neck and the softly whispered, “Sleep, my t’hy’la.”

“What’s...t’hy’la” he breathed.

More kisses on his forehead. “You, my James...now, sleep.”

_____________________________

Jim didn't know what time it was when he woke next. It still hurt to breathe, and he cried out harshly before gasping and gritting his teeth, trying to settle. Long, gentle fingers took his face. He squinted his eyes open and saw that there was daylight streaming into the cavern. Beyond, the river roared and swept against the shore. But Spock's face was blocking his view, those dark eyes fixed on him with such deep concern...and love. That's right. He and Spock had nearly drowned the other day, and then they'd ended up admitting their feelings for each other. Right? Cause then they'd made out before Spock freaked about hurting him further. Which, he did admit, was warranted. He wanted to enjoy their first time, not spend it fighting for breath. Not for the reason he currently was, anyway. Spock stroked his forehead while he ran a tricorder over Jim's chest. His eyes hardened, and Jim didn't need to ask if he'd gotten any better or worse during his latest sleep. 

"Hey," he said quietly. He raised his good arm and touched Spock's hand on the tricorder, blocking its readings. "You wanna know what I was about to tell you before? On the planet?"

Spock's jaw hardened to match his eyes. "You speak of the planet where you ceased breathing in front of me...again."

"Yeah, that." Jim grinned but didn't try to laugh. He felt sticky and sweaty all over, and his skin was on fire. His entire torso underneath the bandage wrappings hurt with every pulse beat of his heart. He had to close his eyes and focus for a moment and Spock, not easily fooled, stroked the side of his face in sympathy.

"I didn't know if I was gonna make it," Jim admitted. "That had happened too much for me...to take any more chances of you not knowing... Knowing that I loved you."

Spock considered him for a long moment, gazing down at him in disapproval. "So you sought to tell me as you were leaving me, that you had long harbored feelings for me..."

Jim sighed, grimacing at the pain in his chest. "I didn't think you felt the same way. I never had... Wanted to at least have the courage to admit it. I just never wanted to see your reaction."

"Surely you have faced rejection before, given what I am led to believe of human relationships...as well as your past experiences." 

"Wow," Jim said. "Yeah, I've been dumped a lot. Great. Thanks... But see, I never cared about any of those. It was all just keeping up the persona. And you...I've never been more scared of anything in my life than...when I've thought about our friendship ending."

Spock slowly helped Jim to sit up against the wall of the cave, shushing him gently as he groaned and sucked in air between gritted teeth. The covering slipped down to Jim's waist, and Spock began washing Jim's sweaty skin with a damp piece of material. It was cold. Like he'd stuck it in the river. It felt amazing on his hot face and neck, and when Spock took his good arm and held it out, caressing the aching muscles. The swim to get Spock safely to shore had taken everything out of him. He still felt foggy and weak, but he could tell the worst of his fever had broken. For now. 

"I understand," Spock said as he tended to Jim. "You would not risk what was, in order to hope for what could be. I felt much the same, which is why I never accessed the bond that lies dormant between us."

"Wait, we have a bond?"

"A t'hy'la bond." Spock nodded. "I did not realize it until before, and I had accepted that I would live with it unfulfilled for the rest of my life. I convinced myself that telling you would only burden you and pressure you into a closer relationship with me than what you desired."

He moved the sheet from Jim's lower half and began cleaning his legs. Jim blushed only for a second at his nakedness, which he'd forgotten about, but Spock seemed focused on treating and kneading the tops of his thighs and working down his legs with efficiency, if not also...affection. Spock gave him a pointed look from under his eyebrows, disapproving of Jim's thought that he would take advantage of him in any way.

"So you sensed that just now?" Jim asked. And when Spock nodded slowly, guiltily, he just gaped at him. "That seems like a pretty substantial thing to keep from me, Spock."

"I would never betray your privacy," Spock said quickly. And Jim believed him. But still...

"But have we ever actually melded? Old you did that with me back on Delta Vega and it was super strong--it hurt like a bitch, actually--"

Spock's wide eyes snapped up in horror. Fury. "He initiated a full mind-meld with you? Why did you not tell me of this?"

Jim rubbed his hand over his face. "It felt kind of familiar to be honest. I saw things that...well, suggested we might eventually have the same kind of relationship as he did with his Jim. At least that's what I let myself secretly hope... He said the choice was yours to make. That's why I never said anything. Didn't want to alter your destiny if you were with Uhura... _And_ I'd definitely say I'm off the hook for not telling you about it because a) it wasn't your business, and b) you've been keeping the same secret bond from me."

Spock shook his head. His hand trembled under Jim's knee. "It is not the same," he hissed. "He is not from our time. He had no right to...you are not his James Kirk."

"No," Jim said, feeling the rising need to defend him. "He lost his. Forever. And it was nice to have at least one Spock who didn't hate me at the time."

Spock's face scrunched as if in pain. "I never hated you. And he _cannot_ have you."

Jim breathed calmly through Spock's distress, letting him ride it out patiently. He sensed this was a bigger deal than he was trying to minimize it as, and something told him to respect Spock's impulses here. It seemed Old Spock was going to be an issue. They could deal with that later. He touched Spock's arm, rubbing his elbow with his thumb. Spock clenched his eyes and looked away. Jim waited for him, not giving up. And when Spock's breathing calmed, and the echo in Jim's mind calmed, he tapped Spock's elbow.

"Spock," he said quietly. "I want this bond. I feel you already in my head. And I feel empty when you're not there. I get headaches more than what's usual even for me... I want access to this, if it's what you want. I want you and nothing else. No one else. Ever. Do you hear what I'm saying?"

"I...I have already violated your trust too many times. I feel anger at my elder counterpart for his behavior, but in truth I cannot forgive myself, for my actions are no better. I have touched your mind without consent, and without your awareness."

"I know," Jim said. "But fortunately, I know you. And therefore I always knew your intentions. I trust that you would have sensed me putting up a fight if I hadn't wanted you there. And I trust that you would have respected that."

Spock shook his head. "You place too much trust in me."

"Well one of us has to, cause I don't think you trust yourself enough." 

Spock said nothing for a long moment. Then he closed the space to Jim's side and sat next to him, taking his jaw gently in his hand and turning so their foreheads touched. Jim closed his eyes and sighed, letting Spock stroke the sides of his face that weren't bruised. His Vulcan (fuck, he loved thinking that) was breathing heavily again, as if centering himself. Jim covered one of Spock's hands with his own, trying to press his own calm and contentedness, even though he had no idea what he was doing or if it was working.

"I do feel you," Spock whispered in reply. "Your mind reaches for mine, and I have blocked it for so long. I can open the bond now if you wish, but it will not be a full meld. I will not attempt that here while you are injured. It is a...private and intimate occasion. Do you consent for me to enter your mind?"

"You gonna ask me that every time now? Do you want me to put it in fucking writing?"

Spock smiled against his lips. "That will not be necessary." His fingers arranged on Jim's face, and the smoothness of their minds joining was something Jim would be in awe of for the rest of his life. The comfort and warmth and safety he felt immediately upon sensing Spock's mental presence was enough to make him cry. And he may have been, since he felt Spock's thumbs brushing his cheeks, even while in his mind. An amazing light filled his mind and he knew instinctively that this was the bond. It was beyond beautiful. It was something that did not deserve to belong to him. Not something this pure and precious. And the light burned brighter at this thought, as if shoving away doubt and reprimanding both at the same time. The pain in his head eased away to a small, distant sensation. Even the pain in his chest lessened, and he could breathe somewhat easier. He didn't know when Spock ended the connection, because their foreheads stayed resting together, and Spock continued holding his face, stroking and pressing Vulcan kisses--because, yes, Jim knew that's what that was. Especially now.

"So all those times...you _were_ kissing me back," Spock gasped in wonder. "I believed you to be unaware of the gesture."

Jim grinned and kissed Spock on the nose--the human way. "Lots of people underestimate me. It's kind of a trick, so I forgive you for falling for it. I hoped you didn't think I was doing it deliberately."

"You are incorrigible."

"Lots of people say that about me, too."

Spock sighed, but said nothing. There wasn't much to disagree with. 

"Your clothes have finished drying now. I would dress you and inspect your injuries, and then feed you."

"You make me sound like such a damn invalid. But yeah...clothes. That's not a power play at all to have dressed yourself already while I'm here stark naked."

Spock turned from where he had risen to cross the entrance of the cavern. "From what I sensed," he said, "you were not averse to the relation dynamic yourself."

Jim blushed and then glared at Spock's small smile. Deciding not to wait, he rolled over and got himself slowly onto his hands and knees and held his breath, pulling himself to his feet by using the wall. Spock turned and growled halfway through Jim's attempt, and rushed to take him by the hips and his good arm. Jim exhaled shakily and blinked away the dots in his vision. His chest stabbed him with pain, and his abdominal muscles felt like they were tearing from the inside out as the deep bruises pressed. He raised his eyebrow and threw Spock a glare once he was balanced, and Spock reluctantly released him with a strong huff of breath through his nose. He brought Jim's clean underwear and pants and aided him into them. Jim fumbled with the fastening with his one hand until Spock pushed his fingers away and finished for him. He examined the security of Jim's bandages and held the tricorder close to the still bleeding wound in his chest. It didn't seem to have bled too much more through the bandages, and Spock seemed unwilling to disturb it. 

"This is the last of the emergency binding wrap," he admitted unhappily.

"Leave it," Jim said. "It's okay. I'm sure the Enterprise will find reach us before the next day now. They have to be close."

"I checked the communicators while you slept. The ship is within static range, but I could not get a hail through. I will try again in a little while if they do not contact us first."

"Bones is gonna kill me," Jim mumbled.

Spock simply nodded in agreement and helped him to lean against the entrance of the cavern and get some light on his face when he refused to sit down again. Jim sighed and closed his eyes at the warmth, but Spock's stern glare of concern made him realize that he probably looked like a wreck in the natural light. Ah well. 'In sickness and in health.' ...Wait, what? He wanted to smack himself. A relationship is one thing. He didn't even know how to do that correctly. Marriage was a whole other mess. Maybe Vulcans did it better, though...He thought about Sarek and what he'd known of his marriage to Spock's human mother, Amanda. And not for the first time, he mourned that he'd been unable to save more of Vulcan. He wanted to learn more. Experience more. He wanted Spock to show him everything, but from his perspective and knowledge. He wanted to prove that he cared, that he could be more than just an illogical human who would annoy Spock too quickly and make him regret this bond thing.

"You are not in the right mind for me to chastise you for that regrettable and _unacceptable_ line of thought," Spock said. "We will discuss this later, but for now, suffice it to say that your fears are as illogical as they are unfounded. You need never think on them again." Spock's voice was harsh, as if restraining himself, but gently firm in order to leave no room for misinterpretation. 

"I thought you said you wouldn't invade my privacy?"

Spock huffed through his nose again, which meant he was clenching his jaw. "Your thoughts and emotions involved me, and so the bond alerted me to settle your distress. It will seek to fill the balance that way. It will guide you to know what I need, as you have already sensed. And it will not permit me to ignore your anxieties or pains. It is as if it already knows it will want to protect you against your proclivity for self-flagellation."

"That's a little extreme." Jim raised his eyebrows. "You talk about it like it's a sentient entity." 

Spock did not reply, but a large swarm of warmth and protection and utter devotion suddenly wrapped around Jim, unsettling his balance at first. Spock appeared at his side and steadied him, pressing his mouth to Jim's hair. 

"I see." Jim couldn't say any more, as he actually didn't understand. Not fully anyway. And he knew Spock sensed that. Sensed that he was uncertain while still trying to appear accepting. And he knew Spock could appreciate his position. Just like he knew Spock would make sure he understood everything in time, that he would show Jim patience and gentleness. ...Maybe the bond made more natural sense than he realized. Or maybe he'd just known Spock so well all along. Maybe a bit of both. Probably one as a result of the other...had his natural insight into Spock influenced the creation of the bond, or was it the other way around?

Spock kissed him again. He didn't need to tell Jim to stop overthinking. Did he have a whole language just in kissing? That would be fun to learn. Spock huffed in amusement and held out a protein ration pack he'd opened. Jim snatched it and ate it gratefully. Quickly. Too quickly. He paused only once to consider what he must have looked like eating so distastefully, but the larger anxiety of old habits dying hard overrode that. Distress rose up so sickeningly in him that he had to swallow against the nausea. Thinking about Tarsus while stranded in any situation was not a smart survival tactic. He looked away along the riverbank, trying to distract himself as he licked his finger and cleaned the crumbs from the packaging, checking for all of it. He'd folded the packaging awkwardly then, not looking at Spock. But then gentle fingers took it from him and said nothing. When Spock's skin touched his, he felt the rush of anxiety and concern, a deep uneasiness. He sighed and watched the river, so strangely beautiful now after nearly drowning them. Go figure. Spock was rustling through the supplies inside, giving him space.

"I'll tell you eventually," Jim said, knowing Spock would hear. "I promise. You probably know more than you think you do. Especially if you've been in my head during my nightmares."

The gentle fingers returned and Jim decided immediately that this sneak touching of affection was something he was going to love forever. Spock pressed himself carefully against Jim's back and rested his chin on Jim's uninjured shoulder. He rubbed his hand up and down Jim's arm. He did not speak for a long moment.

"You claimed you trusted me, that you knew I would never invade your privacy," Spock said quietly against his shoulder blade. "I ask that you continue trusting me. I will never pry into that which you do not wish to share. You have my oath. But I am here. _Always._ And when you are ready, I await you."

Jim just sighed and turned his cheek into the fingers on his shoulder. He kissed them and then turned back to the river. Spock stayed with him for a long while. And when the communicator chirped inside the cavern, nearly ten more seconds passed before either of them stirred. And it seemed that it was with near reluctance that Spock left him to retrieve the device. Jim was almost sorry of it, but he was ready to collapse again and desperately wanted Bones to give him the good pain meds. He smiled and tilted his head against the cave wall, listening to Spock confirm their locations and a rendezvous timing. 

What had happened here was just the beginning, he knew.


End file.
